Save the Last Dance
by barefoot friar
Summary: There's a ball in Philadelphia... but James can't dance! Fortunately, Sarah can. Unfortunately, she's already going with someone else...
1. Shall We Dance?

Save The Last Dance :: A Liberty's Kids Fanfiction 

**Midsummer Ball**

**To be held at the estate of**

**Richard Lawrence**

**On the third of June.**

**Open to public attendance.**

James read the poster that lay plastered across the brick wall, baking in the searing heat of the Philadelphia sun. A ball? Sounded too English for him. He opened his mouth to comment.

Henri beat him to it. " A ball? Très magnifique! Think of all zee lovely ladies!"

" Think of yourself, sitting at home alone." The blonde youth sneered at his friend in a snide fashion. " You're too young for something like this. Besides, you'd need a girl to go with you."

The French boy pouted, but then his mood turned light. " Et toi? What about you?"

" Well…" James pondered the possibilities. There were several girls who he could ask… five of which would say 'no'… two who would die for the opportunity (and he would rather die than ask them)… one that would slap him at the mere notion of it… " I'm not going. There's too much work to do at the shop."

" Like what? There has not been a story in weeks…" Henri chuckled. " You just aren't going because you cannot find a girl!" He dodged James's blow, still grinning widely. " I can't think of any girl who would go with someone as mean as you!"

James frowned angrily. " Well, I can think of plenty!" But Henri was already racing down the street.

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It was midday when James returned to the print shop. He threw his notebook down onto a desk and sighed in frustration. So much for finding a story today… of course, it was still three days until the ball. There was still time. Henri didn't need to find out that he couldn't get a woman to go with him!

Why was he thinking about it, anyways? It wasn't as if he had _wanted_ to go. But if Henri saw that he didn't, he'd be insolently mocked for weeks.

Well, he could always ask that Bethany girl who, according to her giggly friends, was oh-so-fond of him. He only knew this because Beth had sent her horde of tittering, blushing minions to inform him of such. Of course, he had been as rude and abrupt with them as he could. It was just stupid, the way that women acted when they were in love! Laughing at the most idiotic things, and always twisting around like they had ants up their skirts…

" You're back quite early."

He acknowledged the girl with a short nod. " Hey Sarah. By any chance… have you found a story around town?"

She gave him a look that seemed to shout 'like I have enough time to go story-hunting!', but luckily, she didn't say such out loud. " No. I've been busy going to the market for Moses. Why?"

From behind her came another voice. " Because he's afraid of dancing!"

James lunged forward, almost catching Henri. However, the child was slippery, and thus got away. Sarah smiled. " Ah, yes. The Midsummer's ball. I think it's a marvelous idea."

" And _I _think it's for Tories!" James leaned over the printing press, trying to pretend as though it's emptiness was wholeheartedly agreeing. " They have these sort of things in England all the time!"

Sarah rolled her eyes. " Yes, yes. And they also _eat_ in England, and _breathe_ in England, so _of course_ those must be acts of treason, too!"

Henri raised his eyebrows to James in a victorious gesture, even though he hadn't really won anything. James glared at his back as the boy left the room, heading towards the kitchen. " That little rat…"

" Come on, James. Why don't you want to go?"

" Didn't I say? It's a Tory ball."

With a secretive smirk, Sarah came to stand beside him. " You know that's not true. And _I _know that's not the reason. Come now, you _must _tell me."

He frowned at her. " Oh, I must, must I?"

She shrugged. " Alright then, be stubborn. I was going to help you find a girl to bring. But if I'm not welcome…"

" I can too find a girl!" James stomped past her and grabbed his notebook, flipping through the pages. Sarah smiled, for even the bulky papers couldn't hide his blushing. She shook her head.

" Then… what is it?"

He paused for a moment, wondering why Sarah was so terribly nosy. Then, as though it were a lighting bolt from Heaven, the perfect excuse hit him.

" I can't dance."

Sarah looked as though she was struggling not to laugh. " _That's_ it?" she finally exclaimed. " That's your reason? Nonsense! Come, I'll teach you to dance!"

Feeling that she was inevitably plotting against him, he took a step backwards. " No… that's alright… you see, I have so many stories to cover…!" However, he couldn't escape. She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him from the main room.

" Come! We'll use my room. I'll teach you the waltz, the foxtrot…"

_Doomed_, he thought frantically. _I'm doomed_._ I really _can't_ dance_!

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Author's Notes: I've noticed that no-one is writing Liberty's Kids Fanfictions anymore, which is sad because I've recently discovered them! So I've decided to conquer this problem by writing a lot of my own. Hope I can do such! Anyways, this one will only be about 3-4 chapters long. Please review!!! Oh, and… I'm surprised to find that so many people say that they don't play Liberty's Kids anymore! They still play it on my local channel… I guess I'm just lucky :) Thanks for reading this, too!

– decemberbliss


	2. James's New Groove

_Thank you all for reviewing! Yes, I noticed after I submitted it that James was rather cranky and was being somewhat of a jerk to Henri (more than usual, of course), so sorry if he was a little out-of-character._

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**Chapter Two: **

James found himself unwilling pulled into Sarah's room. He had never really been there, and was surprised to find it rather cluttered with books and papers.

Sarah nudged a pile of books away with the tip of her shoe, creating a large enough space for them to 'dance'. James gulped. " Listen Sarah… I don't think this is really necessary…"

" If you're going to a ball, you _have _to know how to dance," she insisted. He yearned to tell her that _dancing_ wasn't the point of his complaints, but instead dancing with _her_, but he anticipated the pointy end of her shoe in an uncomfortable place if he said that out loud. Instead, he heaved the sigh of a man doomed to die and let Sarah drag him to the center of her clearing. " Alright," she stated, as though teaching James to dance was something comparable to teaching someone how to make stew, or sew a scarf, or some other nonsense. All those things seemed easy, and dancing did not.

" First, face me." He did so without any trouble. Good – the first step was down, and no one was injured. _Maybe_ this would be easier than he thought… Then suddenly, Sarah raised her right hand to her side. He stared at it in complete confusion until she growled, " _Take my hand_!"

What? This dance would require him to touch her? With a gulp, he obliged. Then, with a darting movement that resembled some evil serpent's attack, she grasped his other hand and placed it behind her back. Without thinking, James tightened his hold on her, and she stepped forward. Luckily, she didn't seem to notice this strange occurrence, and placed her remaining hand on his shoulder. He felt… comfy. Something seriously wrong was going on.

" Alright, first step forward with your right foot." James did such, and Sarah stepped back with her left. " Now to the right with your left…"

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Henri was having a good day. First, he had learned of the ball. What better opportunity to meet a lady? Then he got to tease James… provoking his older friend was highly amusing. And now, last but not least, Sarah was teaching James how to dance, which left the kitchen empty and ready for raiding.

After he had taken a roll of bread and two apples as his prisoners of war, he decided that he would go upstairs and peek on his two friends dancing. James would be tripping everywhere, upsetting Sarah immensely. He bit into the apple, racing up the stairs as he did such. What a great day this was!

As he neared Sarah's room, he was surprised to hear silence. No yelling, and no harsh words. Feeling uneasy, he stuck his head through the half-open door, and gaped.

They were actually dancing! Not only were they dancing, but they were doing an excellent job. James was sweeping her around the room, his face slightly flushed (from what Henri could only assume was fatigue from the dance). Sarah was willingly being pulled around in circles, and allowing herself to be spun in elegant turns. Things seemed to be going well. And to think, they had only been practicing for thirty minutes…

James would have to give him some tips.

But then it all went wrong.

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James couldn't help but notice how fast his heart was drumming. Well, dancing _was _taking a lot out of him. Why shouldn't it?

Sarah was wonderful. He felt proud of his new skill, and how well he was showing it off to her. If only there was some way to really, _really_ make her impressed. But what could he do?

Yes… he could make his own move! Then maybe she'd stop being so haughty to him all the time…

He spun her. In mid-turn, while her back was before him, he grabbed her free hand and drew her close. Her arms crossed along her chest, and she gasped. Yes! He had done it! He had really impressed her. For a moment, they stood close together, and his heartbeat was amplified by the pressure of her back against his chest.

Then she shrugged loose. He smiled at her, breathless. " See? Tories aren't the only ones who can dance!"

Why was her face so red? Was she really dancing that hard? He pondered these things as she took a few steps towards him…

_Slap_!

He stumbled backwards, and fell directly into a pile of books. They toppled, as did his hopes. What had he done wrong?

Sarah towered over him, her eyes bright and face growing steadily redder. " James Hiller! What was that?"

" Um…" Well, what _was_ it? " It's my new move…" Now that he said it out loud, it seemed extremely idiotic.

Sarah's eyes widened. " You never get that close when you're dancing! It's… it's… improper! You never touch!"

" But you touched my hand! And I touched your waist! And you touched…" _Oh my goodness, what was I _doing

" That's part of the dance! You never… James, you're such a… a… an unmannered, ungentlemanly…!"

Luckily, her ranting was cut short by a loud knocking on the door. Sarah grumbled, and swiftly exited the room. James watched her leave, dejected. So much for impressing her…

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_To write this, I had to go on a site to find out how to waltz! The instructions said 'step forward gracefully with your left foot'. I couldn't help but think of deer in tuxedos and ball gowns gliding gracefully across the ballroom floor…Anyways; I hope ya'll like it. Thanks again for being so nice and reviewing!!!_


	3. Yours?

_Thank you all for your reviews! _

_**Cromwell:** I had no idea… it seemed as though the waltz was ancient… well, for the sake of the story (and my laziness), I'm going to pretend that they had the waltz, but any dances they do in the future will be accurate (I hope!)_

**Chapter Three:** Yours?

James stood by the door of Sarah's room, trying to shake away his extreme sense of embarrassment. What had he been thinking? He had _touched_ her! Well… it wasn't really his fault. She didn't even _warn_ him – how was he supposed to know?

Still… she had been a great dancer. He had expected to feel awkward. Instead, he had been… graceful… and had not stepped on her feet (which was a miracle in itself). Maybe…

He bolted down the stairs.

Sarah stood at the door, but from where he stumbled to a halt, he could not see whom she was speaking with. She seemed rather happy, however, and was even giggling. James tilted his head, trying to peer around. Then he heard a familiar voice.

" I was thinking… since I'm in Philadelphia for a few weeks, perhaps you would accompany me to this ball that is being held?"

James blanched. It was Udney, that soldier that had been staring at Sarah! The one that almost kissed her hand! What was _he_ doing back, at now of all times? James was so busy trying to process this bolt of information that he momentarily forgot why he had ran downstairs to begin with.

" Why, I would be delighted! It would be wonderful to go with a real _gentleman_…"

Oh, yeah… that stupid dance. James tried to collect his thoughts. Sarah glared over at him for a brief moment, and then turned back to the soldier. " Thank you ever so much!"

" I'll see you on the third, then?"

" Of course!"

She calmly waved a farewell and shut the door ever so gently. James breathed a sigh of relief. She must have forgotten about her previous anger.

"_James Hiller_!"

Or not. He tried to look casual. " W-what?"

To his complete shock, her face softened slightly. " Why were you running down the stairs just then?"

" I wanted to ask you to go –," He froze. " Oh… perfect."

" What is it?"

Leaning onto the wall, he grumbled, " I wanted to ask you to that idiotic dance… looks like someone beat me to it, eh?"

There was a deep silence. James looked up, almost concerned. Sarah turned her face away. " You… wanted to ask me? Why didn't you say so before?"

" Well, you sort of took that opportunity away when you exploded at me." He pushed away from the wall, heading past her to the printing press.

" I-I guess I _did _overreact a little…"

Her murmur was lost to James's stubbornness. " I guess you'll have a _gentleman_ to touch you now, not some 'unmannered' rebel… hope you _like _that."

It took Sarah a few seconds to get what he was saying. " James! You know I'm not that kind of woman –,"

" Whatever. Tell that to _Udney_…"

She rushed to stand before him. Now that he could clearly see her face, he could tell she was very embarrassed by the amount of red over her face. Was she angry? He hoped so. " _What_ is _that_ supposed to mean?" She hissed.

" You know what I mean!" He realized that he was practically shouting, but he didn't care. It had been _his_ plan to ask Sarah to the ball, to dance with her, to make her happy. He was supposed to prove himself to her, to prove that he could be a gentleman. What claim did Udney have over her? She was his! And, by all means, she should know her place! " You're _mine_! What right does he have to come and try to get all cozy with you – that snake just wants to prey on some innocent girl! He has _no_ right!"

Sarah swayed backwards. James felt his face burning and fists shaking. There – had said it. He had set her straight! He had told her where she belonged – oh… no…

_Oh my Lord… no, I did _not _just say that_! " Sarah… I – I didn't mean that. I didn't mean a word of it…"

" _Yours_?" She seemed a little breathless, and James's heart skipped a beat. Was she… pleased with what he had said?

_Smack!_ Sarah drew her hand away from James's face, turned sharply, and stormed up the stairs.

James slowly raised a hand, running his fingertips along the burning patch on his face. She – she _slapped_ him! He lowered his head, feeling an unfamiliar emotion. What was going on? He should be angry, or in the least annoyed… but instead, he felt like his heart was on fire…

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_Sorry, but I don't know how to spell Udney's name. Oh well, he's a jerk anyways! (At least, according to James…) Sorry that this chapter wasn't as good as the others, I had a hard time writing it because it was all just so awkward… Thanks for reading anyways! Please review!_


	4. The Joys of Writing

**Author's Notes: **_Sorry that this chapter took so long!! I've had to work on the ending, because I realized that it was so overdone. Thank you for the reviews!_

**Chapter Four: **The Joys of Writing

James had sometimes wondered what it would be like, spying for General Washington on dangerous British troops that could kill him at any moment. It would be thrilling, and suspenseful. Now, standing across the street behind a pile of crates, he felt as though he was getting a real taste of spying on the enemy. However, it wasn't really exciting – he was burning hot, and the crates smelled slightly of old fish. Then again, his victims weren't deadly redcoats, but instead a small herd of giggling girls.

He gulped. Deadly, no. Dangerous, definitely. After his encounter with that Bethany girl's group, he was worried they would leap upon him and suffocate them with their many skirts, all the while twittering about how nice it would be to drag him to the Midsummer's ball…

_I don't even want them_, he mused, lips turned down in a pout. And for some reason, as soon as the thought hit him, another thought came, this one an image – Sarah. He chased the picture away with a short snarl. " I would rather drown myself in ink," he said aloud, causing a few people to shoot him strange looks. He sighed, crossing his arms and looking back across the street to the girls.

He wasn't even sure why he was spying on them. But Henri had assured him that walking into a battle without knowing what you're getting into was always a stupid idea. So he decided to hide away until Bethany came. The mere thought made his stomach turn – he was more than just considering asking her. He was _going_ to ask her. Death by ink didn't sound half as bad.

But then, if he didn't ask another girl, what would Sarah think? He had to cover up what he had said by dragging one of them along to the dance (or rather, by letting one of them drag _him_).

" Why, hello, James Hiller!"

He jumped, falling back onto a crate. The wooden box toppled, crashing open to the ground and spilling forth molding fish. _So it _was _fish,_ he thought. Then he looked up to see who had startled him.

" Oh, B-Bethany… what are you doing here?"

She smiled. " Doesn't _everyone_ hide behind old crates all day? Or is it just me?"

He stood gaping at her, stunned. She had made a joke. A joke! And what was more, she had crinkled up her nose as she jested, making her whole face seem rounder and completely _adorable_. He had never really looked at Bethany. Actually, the few times he was around her, he tended to look the opposite direction. But now, to see her face-to-face, without wanting to run for his life, she was pretty. Really pretty. So maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all to ask her… but how would he? The stuffy alley suddenly seemed a few hundred degrees warmer. " Um… haha… well, good one."

She crinkled her nose again as she laughed, and James coughed uncomfortably. " So, what are you really doing here?"

" Oh, you know… looking for a story." Her eyebrows raised automatically, and he stammered, " I'm reporting on the uh… the ball at uh… the place."

" Oh. Well, if it's about the ball… I would've thought you'd be 'looking' with Sarah."

Her eyes twinkled mischievously, and he felt his heart tripping over itself. She knew! " Well, Sarah's already… I mean, she's got a different writing style than me, and all, so we thought it'd be better if we reported separately."

" Hmm… I write, you know."

_Thank You, God!_ " Well then why don't you go to the ball with me and we'll write a story together?" he blurted out, all at ridiculous speed.

" I'll make sure to bring extra paper," she chuckled and turned, sweeping off across the street to her friends. They must have seen her talking to him, because they were twisting and giggling in a strange song and dance number.

He breathed a sigh of relief. _Well, that wasn't so hard_.

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Okay, sorry for the incredibly short chapter, but the next one will be longer… I think. There's only going to be about two or three more chapters, so I should probably make them longer, eh? But I hope this one was good, I had tons of fun writing it and making Bethany un-evil. I hope their conversation wasn't strange, it was kind of metaphoric, or something, I guess. Thank you for reading, please review?!


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